Through Harold’s Lens is moved to discover that our photographic series, Sensuality of the Tango, provided deep inspiration to a poet from India, Jensy George, to create Lady in Red, a passionate 3-part poem of love, dance and revenge.

Going by the rapier blog handle, The Girl with the Scorpion Tattoo, the Sensuality of the Tango helped give Jensy the vision to unleash a powerful portfolio of words beautifully woven into a deep carpet of emotion, romance and intrigue. The Devil, fangs, red stilettos, seduction… it’s all there.

“An erupting Mt. Vesuvius of the heart and loins. I perspired as I read Lady in Red, said photographer Harold Green. “Her twist at the end was brilliant”.

“As a photographer, one of of my goals is to try to emotionally engage a viewer with my images”, said Harold. “When that happens, bells sound in my heart. A switch is flipped. An electrical connection is made. A person’s heart, mind or soul has been touched”.

Through Harold’s Lens also thanks everyone whose hearts were stirred, panting with passion, from the multi-photo series, Sensuality of the Tango .

Rodolfo-
(Rodolfo dashes to Mimi’s bedside, scoops her up in his arms crying out in extreme desperation)
(weeping)Mimì!… Mimì!..

THE END

Puccini’s Italian opera La Boheme is one of the most frequently performed operas in the world.

As I quietly strolled La Recoleta Cemetery in Buenos Aires, I was reminded of the sad, passionate finale of the two lovers Rodolfo and Mimi. And, my tear-filled evening at the New York City Opera watching my Tenor Nephew Barton Greenplay the lead role of Rodolfo.

Relaxed
Sophie casually waited to dance
Tango music moving her spirit
Swaying to the sounds of the rhythm.

Sophie loves to dance
By herself
With a man
With a woman.Waiting to be asked.

But not for the reason the other women were waiting.

Other women wanted a fantasy.

They wanted young
Stud
Latin
Chiseled face
Piercing eyes
Hot-blood.

Shirt buttons open to six pack abs
Matted intertwined black curls to the navel
Her braless breast pressed against his chest
His pants skin tight
Firm thigh surging between her hot, quivering legs
MoistEcstasy slowly slithering its way up against her warm, twitching belly.

Long par 4
Dog leg left
Lush green fairway
Long steep hill
Mountain capped by an area for putting.

The little boy was only ten
Nickname: Metty
Tiger of a tyke
Sixty-five pounds
Soaking wet
A four-foot runt.

Dad’s golf bag weighed thirty-one pounds
Stood three feet tall.

Lugging the golf bag up the 2nd hole
Murder by iron and leather.

Barely lift it
Sling it forward
Dump it down

Groan. Swish. Bump.

Groan. Swish. Bump.

Groan. Swish. Bump.

Dad said the bag built character
The small whippersnapper swore quietly
Older brother Chip had taught him the words
The older brother had schlepped the bag up the 2nd hole too
Now the torch was passed.

Groan. Swish. Bump.

All day
6,262 yards
The little nipper humped Dad’s golf bag around the golf course
Week after week
Month after month
For two years.

Receive the full sensual experience of this Post on Through Harold’s Lens. Play the music as you are enjoying the images and words.

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

They were stopped
Staring
Eyes glued to an mysterious old brown, wooden box
Young family of four wandering the antique market
My lens watched.

“Is that an old music box?”, the 12-year old boy asks his Dad
Raises iPhone at arms length and silently takes a photo
“Google it on your Mac”, says Dad.

The 10-year old sister
grasps Blackberry
Remembers old collection of love songs that Mom had saved since she was a teenager
Music was on something called a cassette
Mom cried as she tried to untangle the pile of crinkled tan tape covering her garage floor.

“I remember your Grandma
Had large black discs with small holes”, Mom says
Big cardboard covers
Lots of songs on them
She called them 33’s.

“Oh yeah”, Dad says.
“Remember Grandpa’s stacks small black discs with big holes in them?”
I played frisbee with them.
The labels said 45 rpm.

“I sure wish your Great Grandpa was here”, Mom says
He played a tenor saxophone in a jazz band at Princeton
He had blacks discs with small holes that went ‘round and ‘round real fast
Called em 78‘s
He played songs by Paul Whiteman and Bix Beiderbecke
The music was scratchy.

“I was a little boy at your Great, Great Grandpa’s house”, Dad says
Old, wooden music box like this one in the corner of their living room
Crank on it
Faded old black and white photograph of them sat on top of the music box
They were young
They were dressed up
They were dancing
Great Great Grandma was wearing a short dress with fringe on the bottom
She looked like she was hopping around
Her legs were bent like twigs at the knees”

With a sprinkling of grey hair, I raised my Nikon
With slumping shoulders, this aging photographer slowly slinked into the shadows of Buenos Aires.

I could not resist. “You are so beautiful you should be a model in the Buenos Aires Fashion Week”.

“I am one of the Fashion Week models”, she whispered.

With curiosity I asked “Why are you dressed so casually, so Bohemian?” “I’m trying to be incognito in Buenos Aires. These Latin men are, let’s just say, a bit assertive”. At the fashion shows in Paris, New York and Milan, the men give us some distance”.

A new experience for me. Wrapping your body in fabrics is an art onto itself. Wrapping yourself to decrease attention? It didn’t work with me! My Nikon captured her.

As Argentina’s most internationally famous professional team, the team’s fame is matched by its rowdy fans. At La Bombonera stadium these crazy Boca Fans are nicknamed La Doce. The 12th player because of their loud and distracting presence.

The large fan base of these hooligans number 60,000+. There are only 49,000 seats in the famed La Bombonera stadium.